


Taxi

by Nyssa



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-25
Updated: 2010-09-25
Packaged: 2017-10-12 04:40:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyssa/pseuds/Nyssa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After "Tap Dancing" the roleplay continues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taxi

"Well?" Hutch asked.

Starsky glanced to his right. "Well, what?"

"You never told me about the time you used to drive a hack."

"Oh," Starsky said, and grinned. "I forgot. Got kinda busy there, y'know?"

They'd dropped Marianne Tustin off at the hospital, just in case she wasn't really as fine as she said, booked the bad guys, and spent the rest of the day and into the evening laboring over their reports on the case. Time to head home.

"Tell me," Hutch said. "We've got time now."

Starsky shrugged. "Just like driving any other car, except there's a meter."

"But you get to meet a lot of interesting people, I'll bet."

"Sometimes, yeah."

"You know, I knew a girl once who said she had fantasies about making it with cab drivers. A zipless fuck kind of thing."

Starsky snorted. "Tell me about it."

Hutch lifted his eyebrows. "Care to elaborate on that?"

"Listen, I used to drive a lotta women who wanted more than one kinda ride, y'know? Happened all the time."

Hutch grinned. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. They'd tell me to drive to some address, and then when we got there it'd be a vacant lot and they'd want me to park and get in the back with them. Or they'd want me to take 'em home from shopping and help carry the bags in, and I'd have to carry them all they way up the stairs and into the bedroom because it just so happened their old man wasn't home and wouldn't be home for a while, if you know what I mean." He sighed. "Hutch, they were all over me."

"Poor guy," Hutch said, and patted Starsky's leg. "To treat you like some cheap, nameless sex object -- it's shameful."

Starsky nodded, and covered Hutch's hand with his own, moving it slowly up and down his thigh. "I never understood what was so sexy about drivin' a cab. I mean, a lot of those women were rich. They didn't even care that I left the meter running while we were, uh, busy. They were the kind of stuck-up broads who wouldn't have even looked twice at me if they just saw me walking down the street, you know?"

Hutch squeezed the handful of hard, denim-clad flesh beneath his hand. He wasn't entirely sure about that.

"Hey, where are we going?" he asked, as the Torino made a familiar turn.

Starsky threw him a surprised glance. "Home. Your place. That's what we said, wasn't it?"

Hutch looked at his watch. "Well," he said, "it's not that late. We've got time for a detour."

"Detour?"

"To, say, that big supermarket out on Alvarez."

He thought he saw Starsky's mouth twitch. "That supermarket's closed. It's just an empty building with a dark, empty parking lot."

"I'll give you a big tip."

Starsky turned around at the next light.

 

*****

 

The supermarket parking lot was as dark as Starsky had said, and the back seat was just big enough.

"Jeez, I feel so cheap," Starsky whispered, between hot, breathless kisses. "Just a toy for your amusement." He slid a hand down the back of Hutch's pants.

Hutch shuddered and bit Starsky's neck. "Don't talk, dear. That's not what you're getting paid for."

Starsky arched off the seat, gasping as Hutch yanked at his zipper. "Thought I was gettin' paid to drive you, ma'am."

"Oh, you're driving me. You're driving me wild." He took Starsky's pulsing cock in his hand. "Why, I haven't seen anything like this since the night of my debutante ball."

"Hubby not quite doin' it for you, huh?" Starsky grunted, shoving Hutch onto his back and scrambling awkwardly atop him.

"Oh, he tries, really he does. It's just that I'm -- well, I suppose you'd call me a nymphomaniac." Hutch attempted a girlish flutter of the eyelashes.

"Lady, I don't care if you're a _klepto_ maniac," Starsky panted. "You just need a real man, that's all. And tonight you got one, honey."

"Yes, yes," Hutch babbled. He groaned as Starsky's cock slid, hard and hot, against his. "Oh, God, you're so _working-class_."

 

*****

 

Afterward, they rolled the windows down and breathed in the crisp night air. Starsky sprawled tiredly, legs wide, head lolling against the back of the seat. Hutch lit a cigarette because, well, that's what you do.

"Hutch?"

"Hmm?"

"Who was that girl who had the fantasies about hack drivers? Anybody I know?"

"Someone very, very close to you," Hutch said. He pulled in a lungful of smoke and let his eyes slip closed with pleasure. "Sometimes I enjoy being a girl."


End file.
